Lord of the Doohoos
by TheGirlInWonderland
Summary: Our beloved boys are Drama Club, which is putting on Romeo and Juliet, with an all-boys cast. Jack is the crew director, Ralph Romeo, and Simon is Juliet. As you might be able to guess, a lot can go wrong when teenage boys, cross-dressing, and a certain level of hormones are all mixed together. Collab story with aggirl53.
1. Chapter 1

Ralph's POV

I suppose some people find it pleasant to have their thighs sticking to a plastic chair with a bowl of rotting cookie dough on their lap, but I have to say, I'm not one of them. Now, I don't mean to be negative, because it's true that the bowl was a symbol of my seniority. This bowl was a three-day-old Honors English Three speech presentation, and the very sight of it was enough to make the twitchy freshman spaz more violently.

But that didn't mean I liked the smell.

"Alright everyone, lets get started," announced Mrs. Hart, prancing to the front of the room with a smile. Her sparkly shirt caught the light and made me squint in frustration.

"Thank God," I muttered to Simon beside me.

"Does everyone have a script?" This was the last thing I heard before I zoned out, casually reading over Romeo's lines and picking at my nails. Uh, I really needed to file them before auditions.

"Si," I whispered, nudging his leg with mine "Simon."

"What?" he whispered back. His green eyes flashed to Mrs. Hart as she bent down to eyeball the freshman, speaking to them slowly so their little baby minds would comprehend the audition process. I mean, really, how difficult is it to understand that you will be trampled if you sit in the front row when someone calls for actors? Every year I trip over some stupid freshie when trying to get onstage to read back up roles.

"Can I borrow a file? Please?" I begged. The new girl on the other side of me gave a mega-watt smile and opened her purse.

"Here you go!" she said, whipping out a red file before Si could even open his mouth. The look on Simon's face was priceless and I could basically read his mind. This was a freshman who wished she was a senior, it was obvious by the way she deliberately chose to sit on the side of the room where all the "oldies but goodies," were seated. For Simon and I, this meant one thing: free slave labor.

"Thanks," I said, smiling back at her like I actually cared "Your top is cute."

Simon snickered.

"Thanks!" she gushed "What part are you going for, Ralph?"

She would know my name. Most of the freshman did, considering that the part of Romeo (which I already knew I would get) would be my fourth lead in a row and I was only a junior.

"Hmm, I don't know, I was thinking maybe Benvolio. I would go for Romeo, but I'm pretty sure Simon here is going to get it," I said.

They always say that actors are the best liars.

Simon, though, was not about to play along. He rolled his eyes, and for the first time, made eye contact with the girl.

"I wouldn't hold my breath. She's going to cast me as Tybalt, I already know it. She always gives me the character roles. As for you Mr. Golden Boy, if you don't get Romeo I'm pretty sure the fan girls will hold a riot in Freshman Academy," the girl smiled when Simon said this. I'm not sure why; maybe she wanted to lead the riot.

"Who do you think is going to get Juliet?"

Was she joking?

"Go for a smaller part. Trust me. She only gives leads to seniors," I said before Simon could even answer. The look on the girl's face went from crushed to defiant, and her brown eyes pierced into mine.

"Says who? You're got a lead as a sophomore," she said.

"That's different, sweetie, I'm a guy. Theatre has, and always will be, tougher for girls," I reply with a sneer.

As if right on cue, the room went silent as Mrs. Hart gave a cheery smile from the front of the room. The faces of freshman and oldies alike were that of complete shock, eyes and mouths making big round O shapes. I looked at Si and he shrugged.

"What's going on?" I asked a freshman boy in front of us.

"She just announced that no girls are going to be in the show," he whispered back. Simon suddenly sat up in his seat, his green eyes sparkling. I, on the other hand, sat back, scratching my head in confusion.

"What?"

"She wants it to be like it was in Shakespeare's time. I don't know, ask her."

I watched in awe as the room broke into heated conversations as Mrs. Hart bustled about, grabbing scripts from teary-eyed girls and passing out crew applications in replacement.

"To compensate, I'll take twice the amount of crew members this year, okay girls?" she said.

What was going on? Had she lost her mind? Two- thirds of the Drama Club were girls and last time I checked, the only openly gay guys were Simon and I. Sure, we had cross dressed in the past, I mean, that was the whole point of _Two Gentleman in Verona_, but even that show had girls! I looked across the room at, what Simon and I referred to as, the "Bad Touch Trio." They were our best play galpals, and I couldn't imagine a show without them. Emily was crying into Hope's shoulder, while Sabrina gave a sigh of relief (hey, she played background characters for a reason). When I turned to Simon, I saw he was already highlighting Juliet's part.

Well, hot damn.

"Where's Jack?" called Mrs. Hart into the madness "Has anyone seen Jack?"

Jack's POV

I strolled into Mrs. Hart's room, my hands shoved deep in my pockets. The stench of rotten cookie dough swirled throughout the room, and only served to accentuate the smell of freshman BO.

"Jack! There you are!" Mrs. Hart said with delight, "Girls, this will be your crew director!"

My eyes widened and I pulled my hands out of their pockets. "What?"

"It's an all boys cast of Romeo and Juliet. So the girls will be on crew," Hope answered. She was looking fairly relaxed standing next to Emily, who was pleading to God to take her now, because she didn't want to live anymore. None of the rest of the girls were as devastated as Emily, but they all looked pretty pissed.

I turned to face Mrs. Hart. "You have got to be kidding me. I can't have an all girl crew, I need guys! How the hell will they move all of the heavy set pieces?"

Mrs. Hart's expression never deviated from its sunny smile. "Well I'm sure we have some very strong girls in here. You can manage it, can't you girls?"

Hope and a rather manly looking girl nodded. The rest of them stared at me like a penis had spontaneously erupted from my forehead. Sometimes I really hated Mrs. Hart.

A snort came from the back of the room. Speaking of people I hated…

Ralph was looking high and mighty, wearing shorts I was sure had come from the ten-year-old girl's section of Walmart. He had even shaved his legs, they looked as smooth as a baby's butt. A large metal bowl sat in between his thighs; I was sure the sickly cloying smell of rotten cookie dough had come from there.

I was suddenly defensive of my group of girls. "Do you have a problem with my crew Finnegan?"

Ralph rolled his eyes and crossed his legs. "I just don't want them to ruin my show, _Merridew_." He drew my last name out like it was a derogatory slur. As if suddenly deciding that I wasn't worth his time, Ralph tossed his hair and went back to filing his nails. I scoffed and turned back to Mrs. Hart. How utterly flamboyant could he be? If he didn't get Juliet, I would eat my arm off.

I smile winningly at Mrs. Hart. "Would it be possible for me to help you pick out jobs for these lovely ladies?"

"Of course," she simpered. Ralph snorted again. I deliberately ignored him, instead turning to the crowd of girls that had gathered at the front of the room.

"Okay girls, are any of you really strong? As in, you would be able to carry very heavy set pieces?"

A few hands shot up. I wrote down their names and stepped back.

"Okay Mrs. Hart, I'm gonna have to leave now. I can come by and pick up all of the applications next week, so you don't have to worry about assigning jobs." I knew I was sucking up, and probably giving Ralph more reason to mock me, but I didn't care. I needed an excellent crew, and if it was going to be all girls, I knew the only way to get that crew was to assign the jobs myself.

Mrs. Hart smiled even more brightly. "That would be very nice of you, Jack. I'll still get final say, of course."

"Of course," I said.

I turned to pick up my own crew application, and as I did so, I heard Ralph stage whisper,

"Suck up some more, why don't you?"

I rolled my eyes and walked away, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing just how badly I wanted to punch him.

God, I hated that boy.

Ralph's POV

God, I hated that kid.

First of all, who in their right mind paired green- plaid shorts with a light blue shirt? I mean, really, would it have killed him to throw in some earth tones?

Second of all, could he make it anymore obvious he was being a suck up? It would be a lie to say that I never did my fair share of schmoozing, but at least I had the decency to sugar coat it. Jack Merridew, on the other hand, was as obvious as a boner during a Homecoming slow dance.

Standing up with Simon, I decided to brush the whole ordeal aside; Jack was just a lowly crew member and he probably had no idea how to act (aka lie) at all, so it wouldn't hurt to cut him some slack there. Strolling out of the boiling hot classroom with my bowl stuck under my arm, I watched as a gaggle of angry girls peered at me from the classroom with envious eyes.

"So," I said "Where to first?" Simon looked up from his iPhone screen, which was already covered with an array of green text bubbles from Emily. I snuck a peak, seeing all of the cuss words and angry emoticons that littered his screen. Ouch. Had she even left the classroom yet?

"I was thinking six-hundred. I need to get my shit from my locker," said Simon, referring to six-hundred floor, the science wing of our school. I nodded, pulling my satchel higher on my shoulder.

"Did I leave my fedora there?" I asked.

"Yup, and you better take it before I do. That thing is freakin' cute. Where did you get it?" And so started a very elaborate conversation about fashion. This wasn't a rare occurrence for Simon and I, seeing as we did dress better than most of the girls at our school (even though they wouldn't admit it). We were just about to start discussing Hollister versus Abercrombie (a very heated discussion to say the least) until a little _bing_ from Simon's phone cut us short.

"Is that Emily? Tell her to grow a pair, please," I said with an eye roll. Simon gave me a knowing nod before glancing back down at the now- glowing screen.

"No, it's a Facebook update. Oh and look who it's from-" Simon held his phone out to me "Our very favorite, Jack Merridew."

"Uh, stab him. Why did you friend him?" I said, taking the mint-cased phone in my hands. I zoomed in on the post as Simon spoke.

"I didn't, he sent me a request. I supposed it would be a good source for post-play pictures, considering his mom goes crazy with her Nikon every year," said Simon. As I started to read the minute words, he walked up behind me, stretching up on his tip-toes to peer over my shoulder.

"Oh. My. Gosh," I said as Simon gasped.

It was all about me! Well, not obviously about me, just one of those "I won't name this person, but-" kind of posts that everyone knew who it really was. And who else would Jack write about? I mean, hello.

Jack's POV

I knew it was petty, and I knew it was stupid, but I just couldn't help myself. I swiped my phone and opened Facebook. Tapping the little bar near the top of the screen that said "How are you feeling, Jack?" (as if you cared Facebook, you little skank, you're cheating on me with millions of other people). I turned the phone sideways and began doing the most passive-aggressive think I think I've ever done in my life. I posted:

"Some people seriously need to get off their high horse. Just because you can get a lead in a play doesn't mean you're the kind of the whole goddamn world. P.S. Short-shorts are not a good look for you."

Before a could give in to the sensible portion of my mind that was screaming obscenities at me, I pressed the little post button in the corner.

Immediately after the post showed up in my News Feed, a rock plummeted through my stomach, leaving me with what felt like internal bleeding. Or maybe that was just the adrenaline, I couldn't tell. Was it too late to take it back? Definitely. I may not have been friends with Ralph on Facebook, but I was friends with some of his friends, namely, Simon. I knew sending him a friend request had been a mistake; I may have had a little crush on (read: obsession) Ralph's sidekick freshman year. I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me.

Now that long ago crush (obsession) was coming back to bite me in the ass.

I groaned and reached in my pocket to pull out my keys. Maybe if I left the school fast enough, I could escape the path of an angry, pissy actor.

Trust me, it's never pretty.

I was so close. I could see the door, almost feel the gas pedal under my foot as I drove like a bat our of hell. Maybe I would make it!

Ah, no such luck. As I was walking a supremely pissed-looking Ralph flounced down the stairs. Simon followed along meekly, looking more interested in his phone than the inevitable show down that was going to take place.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ralph screeched. I offered a weak smile and held up my keys.

"Going home?" I said, although my voice raised like I was asking a question. Simon snorted.

"Wrong answer."

Ralph narrowed his eyes and stalked closer to me.

"So you think you can just post about me 'anonymously'," he made little air quotes "on Facebook and expect to get away with it? Oh please, Jack, this isn't middle school."

The sensible portion of me brain that had been telling me not to post the status on Facebook had apparently picked up its bags and left, flipping me off as the taxi sped away.

"Uh, yes?"

Simon chuckled.

"You really have no idea what you're doing, do you?"

Ralph began stalking me like a lion, making me feel like an antelope. I was a Jackelope. A small giggle escaped me. Ralph stopped his circling and his eyes widened.

"And what are you laughing at?"

I clamped my mouth shut. Ralph stepped toward me, skinny chest stuck out.

"What are you laughing at?!"

I laughed again, struck by the ridiculousness and oddity of the entire situation. Ralph's eyes opened even more; he looked almost comical. His eyes were very, very blue and his hair was very, very blonde.

"What the hell? Is it my shorts? Because you're just jealous because I wear them better than you ever could!"

I shook my head, the maniacal laugh spilling itself from my lips.

"Is it because I'm gay?"

The laugh died.

Ralph put his hands on his thin hips.

"That's it, isn't it?"

"No."

"Ehmagod, that's why you hate me!"

"Hey I-"

"You're a flaming homophobe!"

"Ral-"

"This explains so much!" Ralph stepped back from me, a look of revelation on his fair face. Simon was now detached from his phone, absorbing in the situation like a bystander waiting for blows in a fight.

"This is why you always badmouth me," said Ralph, as if some great

Indian chief had just given him the knowledge of life "And why you always glare at me, and hate the way I dress! It's because I'm gay. You asshole!"

"No! Ralph I-"

"What are you, an imbecile? Only stone people are homophobes! I'm so telling the administration, I mean, what the hell? Why would you join Drama if you didn't like gays? God, this is so unfair, I never-"

"I'm gay too!" I shrieked. My eyes widened in horror and I turned on my heels, walking quickly away from the two open-mouthed boys.

* * *

Author's Note: This is a collab story I'm doing with the amazingly awesome aggirl53! This is loosely based on our experiences in Drama Club, with some fiction mixed in. She's writing from Ralph's point-of-view, and I'll be writing from Jack's! There's going to be lots of OCs, because there aren't enough LOTF boys to fill in all of the cast spots, and we obviously need to have all of our girl OCs. The main focus will be Ralph and Jack though, so don't worry.

Please Review and come back for the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

Ralph's POV

"I'm pretty sure he's hotter in _Seventeen Again_," stated Simon from my bed. Sam twisted around, giving an appropriate glare as Simon had just interrupted our _Sherlock _fangirling. I mean, _fanboying_, sorry.

"Excuse me, Simon, but Sam and I were just discussing our gay babies with Sherlock," I snapped in fake-anger "That is, if he doesn't reproduce with John first."

"Well sor-ry, I was just concerned as to whether or not my gay babies with Zac Efron will look as attractive as me," said Simon. To accentuate this statement, he lifted up a Cosmopolitan magazine (which he had stolen from his mom) to show a picture of Zac Efron making a very unattractive face. It was one of those stupid Celebrity OMG! columns, the kind that made no one OMG unless they were still convinced that celebrities were not human. I, on the other hand, did not believe that at all, seeing as I would be one of them someday.

"They'll be fine. If they have me as a godfather, I'm sure my beauty will rub off on them," I said. I stuck out my tongue at Simon's "ew" face and chuckled.

We were just about to divulge in yet another conversation about whose surrogate children would beat up the others (mine would so beat Simon's) when Simon's phone lit up with a text. It was Jack.

"How the hell did he get your number?" I yelled, pausing Hulu much to Sam's dismay. Simon rolled his eyes.

"Chill your dick, Ralph. He gave me his and I texted him one day asking about a practice time for Midsummer's. He must have saved my number," explained Simon. His thumbs moved steadily over his iPhone and he sighed in dismay as another text made his phone shake.

"What's he saying?" I asked. At this point, Sam and I were sitting cross legged on my bed, trying to peer over Simon's phone to catch a glimpse of the screen. Simon, obviously looking for attention, tilted the screen away from us with a hint of a smile.

"Oh, nothing. Just something about auditions," he quipped. Sam and I shared a look before promptly rolling our eyes.

"Details, Si," I said. After a moment of Simon not replying, seeing as he was completely absorbed in his phone, I'd had enough of the shenanigans. I plucked the cell phone from his hands while Sam held him off as I read the text out loud.

"No, jazz choir's at six- thirty this week because of auditions," I read. Sam and I both slumped disappointedly in unison. Simon let out a little huff before snatching back his phone.

"Told you," he sneered.

"So when are you guys going to tell me everything that went down in the hallway?" whined Sam. This time Simon and I shared a look. Sam hated being out of the loop more than I hated BOBS (total rip- off of TOMS), but unfortunately that occurred often for him seeing as how Simon was number- one on my friends list. There were certain things that we had between each other that we just couldn't share with the outside world.

Fortunately, Jack's coming out was not one of them.

"This calls for adult-coffee time," stated Simon solemnly.

Soon enough it was the three of us sitting at my kitchen table with mugs of coffee in our hands. Well, everyone except for me, seeing as how I was too elite for coffee. That was, excluding times of crisis aka during solo and ensemble contest or tech week. But, seeing as how I was not in the mood to be bouncing off the walls singing charts from _Jekyll and Hyde _at one in the morning, I decided to lay off the coffee and go for a cup of earl grey instead.

"Yeah, he really screamed 'I'm gay' right there in the hallway," I explained while Simon nodded in approval. Sam's eyes were wide and his hands stopped folding and unfolding the napkin as they had previously been doing.

"Wow," he said at last. The napkin slipped through his fingers as he folded the ends together again. Simon nodded once again before looking down to examine the remains of his cup. He frowned before standing up and going to retrieve his third cup.

"So what are you guys going to do about it?" asked Sam. Simon froze at the fridge, his hand resting on the latch. Our eyes met for a brief moment and I was sure our faces mirrored each others.

"I don't know. We really didn't think about it," said Simon to Sam. His green eyed gaze turned back on me. "Any ideas?"

"No clue," I said. Looking down at my own cup, I realized I had just enough water last for a final sip. I took said sip before looking back up at my friends.

"But I do know one thing for sure," I said with a devilish grin. Sam and Simon's eyebrows both furrowed in confusion as they stared at me in anticipation.

"What's that?" asked Sam.

"We definitely are going to use this to our advantage during auditions," I replied.

Jack's POV

I sighed and stuffed another handful of Doritos into his mouth. "I dunno dude, it's like…" my voice trailed off for a moment as a dumbass camper shot at me and missed by a friggin mile, "Die motherfucker!" I yelled, mashing the buttons on his controller frantically.

Eric looked up from the magazine he was reading. "I feel you. Every time Sam starts going on about the sleepovers him and Ralph and Simon get up to, I wanna kill him too."

I rolled my eyes. "Not what I meant, but I believe you. I mean, I don't know why Ralph hates me so much."

Eric dropped the magazine from his face and fixed an incredulous stare at me. "Well, maybe it has something to do with how you pulled a dick move and posted about him on Facebook without mentioning his name."

"Oh. Well, yeah, that was a dick move. But still, I don't see how that's a reason to call an 'emergency slumber party.'"

A few moments passed where the only sound in the room was the shrieks of men on the television dying horribly bloody deaths. Then the "Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition" Eric had been reading flew through the air and smacked me in the face. Indignant, I paused the game and tossed the offending magazine to the side.

"Dude, what the hell? I don't wanna see that."

Eric pointed an accusing finger at me. "And that right there is the reason for the emergency sleepover."

I cocked my head to the side. "Huh?"

"Are you honestly that dense? If you suddenly burst out of the closet to arguably the two gayest boys in the entire state, of course there's going to be an emergency sleepover."

Realization dawned over me like a cold shower, "Oh."

Eric heaved an exasperated sigh. "Jesus Christ, finally. I knew we'd get there eventually, but I didn't think it'd take that long."

I huffed and turned back to my game. It was quiet between us for a few more minutes. "What do you think they're saying about me?"

Eric snorted. "Probably insulting your fashion sense, or saying how you're not nearly as hot as Zac what's-his-face."

My face flushed. "Yeah probably." I vowed to not think about Ralph or Simon for the rest of the night as I turned to my game, Exclamation of Duty. Instead of wasting my time on them, I would get a kill streak of at least ten.

I had killed eight people when my phone buzzed. I turned around to pick it up, and when I turned back, someone had killed me. Great. The text was from Simon. "Jazz choir practice is at 7 right?"

I rolled my eyes. He had interrupted me for this? I quickly texted back, "No, jazz choir's at six-thirty this week because of auditions."

Eric rolled over onto his back. "Was it the love of your life, our dear Ralph?"

I looked back at him with my best "what the fuck" face. "Love of my life? As if."

A shit-eating grin slowly formed on Eric's face. "So that's what this is all about. You're jealous of Ralph because he actually had the balls to come out of the closet, and there has to be some sexual tension there. Oh this is gold!"

I scoffed. "Please. The closet probably threw him out for trying on all of the clothes. And for the record there is not, nor will there ever be sexual tension between us. Okay? Okay."

"We could call up Roger and see what he thinks about all of this. Ya know he's always the best at seeing stuff like that."

"Roger can stay out of this."

"Why? Because you know he'll see something that you want to deny?"

I heaved an exasperated sigh and gave Eric the best death glare I could. "No, because it would be an utter waste of time. Or, is it because you want Roger over here because you have a crush on him?" I desperately tried to turned the tables on him.

Eric rolled his eyes at my pathetic attempt. "Really? You're terrible at this. Number one, I generally prefer people without penises, and number two… well there's no need for a number two, is there? Number one basically covers everything. Besides, I'm not the one who drunkenly made out with Roger at a cast party."

My face turned as red as my hair. "Whatever," I muttered, turning back to my game.

"Also, I'm pretty sure Roger has a crush on Sam," Eric said conversationally.

"That would be nice to know, you know, if I cared at all."

"You're just going through these drama boys like candy. Ralph, Roger, Simon, who's next, Sam? Wait, don't do that, you might get a crush on me, and that would be weird."

"You wish I had a crush on you."

"Oh yeah, I would only go gay for you, Jackie-face. You know I can't resist tall, gangly, and ginger."

"Shut up, freshman."

"Do keep up. I'm a sophomore now."

I widened my eyes in mock surprise. "Oh, big difference."

"Whatever. You still can't deny your lust for Ralph."

I sighed. "Only because you won't let me."

Eric chuckled. "That's because one day, you won't want to deny it. Given the chance, you'd be in those short-shorts faster than Sam when there's a sale at JC Penny's."

"… whatever."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm sososo sorry it's been like, five and a half months since we last updated... both of us had stuff going on, but now that it's summer, we should have time to write! So, hopefully, we'll have the next chapter out soon.

Please leave us a review!


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